


thanatophobia & isolaphobia

by sirenofodysseus



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: AU S4, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Craig O'Laughlin lives!, Craig is awful, Kidnapping, Killing, M/M, Phobias, Sex, Wainwright is naive, but they are both so beautiful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-24
Updated: 2015-10-24
Packaged: 2018-04-27 20:00:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5062060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirenofodysseus/pseuds/sirenofodysseus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So tell me, Luther. What are you afraid of?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	thanatophobia & isolaphobia

**Author's Note:**

  * For [brokenhighways](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokenhighways/gifts).



> For the birthday girl as a belated birthday gift! Happy birthday, brokenhighways! I love you, bb! <3 
> 
> (Also, fills my phobias square for H/C bingo.)

 

            With a blade pressed to his throat and the darkness threatening to suffocate him, Luther Wainwright swallowed and _wistfully_ admitted (to Craig O’Laughlin) that death didn’t frighten him.

            “I’m going to die one day anyway,” Luther commented, leaning his head back against the crimson-stained wall. His arms ached from the continuous hanging and his mouth remained dry, but he remained steadfast by keeping his attention on the knife-wielding brunet before him. “Why be afraid of death, when you can’t exactly control when and where you’re going to die?”

            Craig’s lips curled into a smirk. “Curious. I always thought you CBI types were absolutely terrified to end up at the mercy of Red John.” Luther shook his head, which forced his entire body to sway back-and-forth.

            “You and I _both_ know that Red John’s idea of mercy is to either _join him_ or _die_ by his hand,” Luther idly commented. “I know you’re not idiotic, Mr. O’Laughlin.” Surprise flickered across Craig’s face for a moment and Luther rolled his eyes. “I, of course, know who you are. You should be dead, but you’re not.”

            “As I said,” Craig replied. “Mercy of Red John.” Luther felt the blade press against his throat again and he tensed. “If you _aren’t_ afraid of dying, _Agent_ Wainwright, what are you afraid of then?” Luther blinked and said nothing. “I could just slit your throat here, Luther. I am, at the very least, attempting to be friendly before I kill you. I could just be a barbarian and slit your throat now.”

            Luther swallowed again. “You could; but something tells me that your _master_ wouldn’t appreciate the movement.” Craig’s smirk disappeared. “I’m obviously important, and unless I _feel_ like talking to you, I don’t actively need to answer your question.” Luther turned his head away slightly, before he felt Craig’s fist slam into his face.

            “While I _can’t_ kill you,” Craig agreed, while Luther spat up blood. “I _can_ make you wish you were dead.” He paused to smirk again, before he took a step closer to run his finger down Luther’s nose.  Luther jerked away from his touch. “I can _also_ break you. Look around, Luther.” Craig stepped backwards, throwing his hands outwards. “We’re alone, pet. I can do anything to you, short of killing you, and Red John would _praise_ me for it.” His smirk grew, as he stepped closer again. “So tell me, Luther. What _are_ you afraid of?”

 

::::

 

            “I never loved Grace,” Craig idly admitted with his hand twisted up (tightly) in Luther’s hair. Luther grunted. “I know what you’re thinking, Luther; and as ridiculous as it sounds, my lack of interest had nothing to do with the Master Plan.” Luther nearly snorted. “I don’t know how much of a surprise it will be to you, but I’m not much of a ladies man.”

            Luther eyed him. “Somehow, I don’t believe that.” Although he hadn’t been around for the Van Pelt/O’Laughlin romance, Hightower had been _kind_ enough to leave him notes on how romantic the two had apparently been. From Hightower’s information, Luther had gotten the impression that Craig was _quite_ the romantic. “You and Agent Van Pelt were caught, multiple times, in compromising positions by several _high profile_ CBI officials.”

            Craig snorted. “All part of the Master Plan, I assure you.” Luther felt Craig’s hand move through his hair and he shifted uncomfortably. “Engage Agent Van Pelt’s interest, and by the end, force her to submit to you. I have to admit,” Craig shrugged almost sheepishly as he pulled away. “I failed at forcing her to submit to me, mainly because she had _nothing_ worth breaking.” Craig’s hand trailed Luther’s chest and because he _truly_ couldn’t help it, Luther cringed. “But you, _you_ , Luther Wainwright interest me. It’s truly a shame that Red John’s gonna kill you.”

            “Is that _actual_ sadness I’m hearing?” Luther asked, mocking the sociopath. Craig smirked slightly. “Because from what I _heard_ , Craig O’Laughlin wasn’t the I’m _sorry_ type of man. In fact, Craig O’Laughlin was a cold bastard. He’d rather shoot you, just to escape a long-standing engagement. Commitment issues, obviously?”

            Craig lost his smirk. “You obviously shouldn’t believe _everything_ you hear.” Craig shook his head. “You see, I can be _quite_ sympathetic. It just takes the proper amount of leverage to make me care.”

            “And you care about me?” Craig stepped backwards and Luther’s frown increased. “That isn’t an answer, O’Laughlin. I’d appreciate it if you…”

            “You forget,” Craig interrupted coolly. “You hold absolutely no cards here. You are _tied-up_ and I’m not. So, I don’t exactly care what you appreciate. I’ll do what I like.” Luther merely rolled his eyes, suddenly feeling brave in Craig’s presence. Craig merely snorted again. “Courage. I like a man, who has absolutely nothing to fear.”

 

::::

 

            When Craig _isn’t_ keeping him company, Luther has plenty of time to think; and it’s unfortunate too, because he doesn’t _want_ to think. He doesn’t want to think that he might die at the age of thirty-one. He doesn’t want to think that his mom _might_ have been right about the dangers of taking the CBI job.

            He also doesn’t want to think about the fact that he and Craig O’Laughlin aren’t all that different, but it’s the thought he just can’t seem to beat back.

(Even in his continued state of exhaustion and hunger, Luther cannot help but wonder _how_ Red John had ever gotten his hands on Craig O’Laughlin at all.)

 

::::

 

            Pressing his mouth against Craig’s, Luther is oddly calm as his captor works to unbuckle his pants.

            Luther’s also oddly calm when Craig’s mouth starts working at his dick.

 

::::

 

            _“So tell me, Luther. What_ are _you afraid of?”_

 

::::

           

            With Craig’s lips pressed against his throat, Luther swallowed and wistfully admitted that death didn’t frighten him.

            “No, I suppose it doesn’t,” Craig replied lowly, his lips pulled into a taunt (and all-together radiant) smile. “But if you aren’t afraid of dying, _Luther_ , what are you afraid of then?”

            Luther paused, his eyes focused on Craig. “I just don’t want to die alone.” Craig’s sudden burst of laughter had him tensing, before Craig’s hand brushed (tenderly) across his cheek.

            “Trust me, you have nothing to fear,” Craig reassured him, pulling his hand away only to push (and twist) his switchblade into Luther’s stomach. “I wouldn’t let you die alone, pet.”  


End file.
